


Porcelain Heart

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [15]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 3b, Canon Universe, Deleted Scenes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, canon expansion - if that's a thing, if it can be broken it means it still works, really expanded scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 13:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18572065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: In the aftermath of Walsh's betrayal, Killian is there for Emma. Aka the scenes of Emma emotionally processing that we never got for sake of plot. Based on the song by Barlow Girl





	Porcelain Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jdmusiclover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdmusiclover/gifts).



> It's jdmusiclover's birthday! She's the queen of filling in the spaces in Once's plot with emotion and character development. I hope she likes this little gift of emotional hurt/comfort.

_Someone said a broken heart would sting at first then make you stronger. You wonder why this pain remains. Were hearts made whole just to break?_  

“Why’d you have to go and drink that potion?” 

“Wh-what?” 

The words coming out of Walsh’s mouth were so far out of left field that Emma couldn’t even wrap her mind around them. 

“You know, I really did like you, Emma.” 

What? He  _really liked_ her? That was it? Hadn’t he wanted to marry her like five minutes ago? And the last eight months - 

“Who are you?” she asked him, the full meaning of his actions and his words finally sinking in. At least into her brain. Her heart still refused to fit the pieces together. Honestly, her heart had been playing catch up since he violently shoved that chair aside. Her even-tempered Walsh? Losing his temper? 

His eyes suddenly flashed red, and he bared his teeth like an animal. Instinct took over as Emma dodged to the side. A benefit of living her insane life, she supposed: quick instincts of self-preservation. Her demonic boyfriend couldn’t take her by surprise.  

Until he did.  

A flying monkey? Really? The next few minutes were a blur of fangs and claws and fur and wings. A lead pipe was involved, and her heart pounded as adrenaline flooded through her veins. Then he hit the ground far below in a burst of - 

Sparkles? Fairy dust? What the hell? 

“Emma!” 

There was a crash as the door burst open, and Killian came rushing out on the roof. If the flying monkey had just been a monster and not her almost-fiancé, she may have been touched by the panic on his face. But since the past ten minutes were colored with not only terror but pain and humiliation, all she could do was deflate and toss the pipe aside. She felt empty. Resigned. 

“What the bloody hell was that?” Hook asked, his eyes scanning her frame to be sure she was okay. 

“It was a reminder of what I could never have. A happy ending was never in the cards for me.” 

Emma couldn’t take the compassion in his eyes. She dropped her head. Every cell in her body felt fatigue beyond explanation. Perhaps that was why she didn’t step away when he came closer.  

“Emma,” he said softly. That was all. Just her name, laced with understanding. Hadn’t he always understood her? 

A sob choked out of her despite her valiant efforts to hold everything in. His arms came up, his hand resting on one shoulder, and his hook on the other. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder.  

“He turned into . . . he turned into . . . “ She couldn’t say it. 

His arms slid down and around, holding her close. She couldn’t hold back the flood of tears then, pressing her face into his collar bone. He smelled like leather, rum, and salt water. How did he always manage to smell so clean in that coat of his?  

“I feel so stupid,” she muttered, emphasizing the last word. Emphasizing what an idiot she was.  

“Now Swan,” Killian admonished, “I knew from the moment we met that you were the most bloody brilliant lass I had ever come across.” 

Emma snorted. “That’s just Killian Jones, the old-fashioned gentleman, talking.” 

“Use your super power,” he whispered, bending his head closer so that his breath tickled her ear, “see if I’m lying.” 

A warm feeling spread through her chest and down to the tips of her fingers. He had said that to her in the restaurant the other night: “use your super power.” How could he still believe in her like that? Neal had never bought her ability to spot lies, and her super power had certainly failed her with Walsh. It was easier to brush it all aside as sweeping declarations from a smitten pirate than to contemplate what it would mean if his belief in her was that strong. She stepped back quickly, out of the circle of his arms, and wiped hastily at her tear stained cheeks.  

“We leave first thing in the morning.” 

She headed for the stairs without looking back.  

******************************************************* 

“You’ll take any excuse to use that thing, won’t you?” 

Emma winced even as the words came out of her mouth. She didn’t  _want_ to be mean to him, necessarily. Condescending and insulting things just seemed to fall off her tongue when he was around. Every once in a while, she even saw pain flicker in his oh-so expressive blue eyes. She kept waiting for him to get sick of her. It would be better for both of them, really. Her bruised and battered heart couldn’t take much more, and while Killian gazed at her with adoration now, she would never be enough. She never was.  

Emma shook her head, dislodging such ridiculous thoughts. He was a pirate, plain and simple. Seducing women was a game to him, nothing more.  

 _But he’s become your friend, Emma, one you rely on more and more. What do you make of that?_ Her traitorous heart asked.  

“Were you seriously considering it?” Killian asked. “His proposal?” 

Emma stopped and turned to him with a scowl. This was too much. It was bad enough he blurted out the news of Walsh’s proposal to her dad. Now he was poking and prodding where she hurt the most? 

“I was in love, so of course I was considering it,” she snapped. Emma narrowed her eyes as she perused Hook’s face. She had expected to see a jab of pain there when she admitted that she had been in love. What she hadn’t expected was the softening of his expression and the way he swayed closer. It threw her off balance in multiple ways. “But it turned out he wasn’t who he said he was, and I got my heart broken.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” he said softly, stepping closer.  

Emma stepped closer too, anger rising up. How dare he? “You’re glad to hear I got my heart broken!?” 

He wet his lips, and Emma wanted to scream at that heart of hers again for flipping over at the sight of it, for forcing her eyes to zero in on those lips.  

“If it can be broken,” he told her, his voice dropping an octave, “it means it still works.” 

He was staring at her lips too, and the air felt charged. His cheeks were tinged red just as they had been in Neverland, and the memory of his lips on her set a fire deep in her core. They were both swaying closer, their eyes locked on one another. Emma wasn’t sure who made the first move. All she knew was that soon his lips were pressed to hers. His lips were dry and slightly chapped from the winter cold, but still soft as they moved over hers. Just like in Neverland, they fell into a rhythm as they drank one another in; lips parting, heads tilting, and tongues tangling.  Yet unlike Neverland, this kiss was slow, languid. She wouldn’t call it tender, for there was still a hunger to it, but Emma didn’t come at him with aggression like she had before. His fingers brushed her cheek, ice cold against her skin. He really needed to wear a glove, he might get sick.  

That simple thought flitting through her brain for one split second was what ripped Emma out of the moment. Worrying about someone, that wasn’t attraction. That was attachment, and she couldn’t get attached. She pulled away, stumbling backwards over roots and leaves.  

“I . . . um . . . we . . . “ She couldn't say it was a one-time thing. She’d already used that excuse. Which, obviously, had been a big fat lie.  

Killian cocked his head at her, a teasing smile on his lips. “We’re pretty good at kissing? I was about to say the same myself.” 

Emma couldn’t help the relieved laugh that escaped her. She also didn’t fight him when he took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. He pulled her gently to his side and brushed his lips against her hair. “Whatever you wish to give, Swan, whenever you are ready to give it, I’m here.” 

He brushed one more kiss to her cheek, then winked at her.  

“Come on, love, we have a witch to find.” 

Emma bit her lip, fighting a smile and failing. Maybe he was right. Maybe her heart still worked after all.  

 _Broken heart, one more time, pick yourself up, why even cry? Broken pieces in your hands, wonder how you’ll make it whole. You cry, you say, something’s_ _gotta_ _change. Please mend this porcelain heart of mine._  


End file.
